


spoonful

by starblossoms



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblossoms/pseuds/starblossoms
Summary: Wonwoo is a complete mess and Seokmin is the last person he wants to see right now.





	spoonful

**Author's Note:**

> my first svt fic o boy...  
> 

"Oh." Wonwoo looks up when the door opens, dropping his phone on his stomach. He had been texting Mingyu, asking about his roommate's whereabouts. His phone buzzes with a reply, but Wonwoo's already got his answer. "What are you doing here?"

Wonwoo's sinking into his mattress, a thick blanket, two tissue boxes (one empty), a packet of crackers he was snacking on, and the novel he was supposed to read for class weighing down on him. A half full water bottle is at the foot of the bed, along with one sock that's seen better days (the other is still secure on his foot). There's a small dustbin almost overflowing with used tissues on the floor, arms length away.

He's a complete mess and Seokmin is the _last_ person he wants to see right now.

"Good to see you too, baby." Seokmin grins at him, and either is isn't actually grossed out by the fact that Wonwoo's laying in his own filth, or he's just nice enough not to make a big deal out of it (then again, Wonwoo has seen Seokmin's room during finals week, and it's infinitely worse than this). He pulls up Wonwoo's chair and sits by the bed, placing a bag he had brough on Wonwoo's (thankfully, organized) desk. "Junhui-hyung let me in."

Junhui -- Wonwoo's roommate, a traitor, and quite possibly the devil himself -- isn't in the room, but Wonwoo's sure that if he glares hard enough at the wall adjacent to the living room, he may be able to burn holes in the back of Junhui's head. But maybe that's just the fever talking.

"But what are you doing here?" Wonwoo slowly rolls onto his side with a grimace , and his skull starts pounding in protest. This was a bad idea. He shifts onto his back again and sighs when a clean tissue somehow manages to flutter onto the floor.

"Just wanted to see my boyfriend." Seokmin is grinning (and Wonwoo specifically recalls telling Seokmin _not_ to come over right now, since he was basically dying in bed), but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes this time. A flicker of insecurity passes over his face, a small cloud passing in front of Seokmin's sunshine smile that Wonwoo just about started to be able to recognize.

(It's still kind of new -- dating, being in a relationship, instead of the casual friendship, the whole hanging out with friends of friends thing they had a few months ago.) 

Wonwoo chews on his lip and reaches his arm out, patting Seokmin's knee. Communication, he's learned the hard way, is key. "I wanted to see you, too." He pauses, then confesses, "I just didn't want you to see me -- like this."

"Like what?" Seokmin covers Wonwoo's hand with his own. His skin is soft, slender fingers turning Wonwoo's hand so his palm is facing upwards.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, gesturing to himself with his free hand. He feels like someone's been dragging him by the ankle through hell, and with greasy hair, dry skin, bags under his eyes, and probably what's a dull, exhausted gaze, he doesn't look much better. It's stupid (Soonyoung's words, not his), but he doesn't want his boyfriend to see one of the worse version of himself. 

Seokmin raises his eyebrows and his lips quirk up in a way that Wonwoo has learned means he's about to say something embarrassing (something that Wonwoo's probably going to remember days later and grin to himself about). "I think you look pretty sexy."

"Huh." There's a voice by the door, and Wonwoo nearly has a heart attack, Seokmin jumping a little in his seat too. Junhui's leaning against the door frame, smug for some reason, smirk growing when Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him and presses a hand over his chest (when did the door even open?). "So Seokmin likes 'em pale and dying."

Seokmin sputters, cheeks going red, and Wonwoo groans as Junhui cackles. He takes a deep breath (or tries to), and reminds himself that he does in fact love his roommate of three years, and that murder is most definitely illegal.

"Should I leave a sock on the door?" Junhui grabs his wallet and keys before closing the shared bedroom door halfway. "So no one has to accidentally witness whatever weird shit you--"

Before he can finish his sentence, Wonwoo uses whatever strength he has left to fling the empty tissue box in Junhui's direction. He misses horribly, and Junhui laughs even louder, but he closes the door after, leaving him and Seokmin in peace, so Wonwoo counts it as a win.

"Um," Seokmin says, and he's still flushed with an awkward smile plastered on. "I definetly like people who are, uh, alive. I like you, hyung. I like you a lot, just like this. I mean -- not that I like the fact that you're sick in bed." He backtracks quickly, swallowing and blinking a few times. "That'd be kinda weird, wouldn't it? Unless you're into that? What I mean is -- uh."

As cute as it is to see Seokmin flustered, Wonwoo spares him. "I like you too, Seokmin." His hand returns to Seokmin's knee, tracing random lines onto his thigh with his fingertips. That makes Seokmin smile -- a real genuine smile, with his eyebrows tilted up slightly in the most endearing way -- and Wonwoo can't help but smile back. Seokmin's infectious, after all. And it's a nice moment, until Wonwoo ruins it with a sneeze. 

"Oh!" Seokmin gasps, clapping his hands together. "That reminds me!" He reaches for the plastic bag he brought, and pulls out a thermos and a spoon. It takes a moment for Seokmin to open the container, laughing nervously and mumbling about screwing the lid on too tightly, but when he does, steam floats up from the top.

"Did you make this, or Mingyu?" Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, and sits up to peer into the container. It's a clear soup with a bunch of vegetables and chicken. He's no expert, but it doesn't look like something that could be instantly made, or bought from a store. 

"Of course I made it!" Seokmin pouts, voice almost whiny. "I can cook!"

"You can cook rice, I'll give you that," Wonwoo teases, but he's pretty sure he's got that soft, dopey grin he always gets around Seokmin (at least according to Jihoon, who had asked, deadpanned, "when are you gonna officially ask him out so I can stop third-wheeling all your dates?"). Besides, Seokmin is a better than average cook when he actually tries.

"Okay, okay -- I asked Mingyu what would be the best kind of soup for you right now. But this?" He gestures to the thermos with a proud little smile that's incredibly cute. "All me."

Seokmin carefully pours half of the soup into the cap and presses it into Wonwoo's hands. "Just sit back, drink your soup, and I'll read this--" he grabs the book on Wonwoo's bed, and eyes the translated text wearily "--very long story to you."

"It was assigned, but it's a classic." Wonwoo smiles and takes a sip. His nose is blocked, and his sense of taste is totally off, but there's subtle flavors that taste like home and just enough spice to start to clear Wonwoo's head. "This is amazing. Have I ever told you that you're the best boyfriend in the world?"

Seokmin preens a little, then raises his eyebrows. "Is this fever talk?" (He's joking, but there's some truth to it -- Wonwoo isn't exactly the most expressive when it comes to stuff like this. He's trying, though.)

Wonwoo shakes his head and pitches his voice to copy Seokmin's higher tone, "All me." Then, he adds, "I mean it. I'd tell you that every day, if you want."

Seokmin laughs this time, high and melodious. "I'll accept it in the form of kisses, too."

"You can collect in a few days," Wonwoo smiles into the thermos cap, and pretends the light flush on his cheeks is from the steam.

The soup really is amazing. It's no panacea, but it warms Wonwoo's throat, and his head doesn't feel as heavy by the time he finishes his second serving and the spoon clangs against the bottom of the empty thermos cap. He tidies up a bit, setting the container and spoon back on his desk, then shuffles around in bed to lay down and focus solely on Seokmin.

He watches Seokmin's finger turn the pages, watches his mouth form around each word as he reads ("Genji had been sure that a pardon would presently come, but he also knew that life is uncertain"), watches his tongue dart out to wet his lips because they always seem to be a little dry. He watches Seokmin shift closer, listens to how he does his best to inflect his voice to match each character, and Wonwoo's chest swells with affection. 

His eyes slip shut, and he feels warm -- plesantly so -- from the soup and the company. Seokmin's voice is smooth and soothing, lulling Wonwoo into some soft, hazy wonderland, where the words Seokmin is reading are indistinguishable, and sound more like the way gentle fingers against his scalp would feel.

 _Oh_ , Wonwoo realizes, blinking when he feels a dip in his bed. He finds Seokmin laying beside him, slim fingers threaded through his hair.

"Tired?" Seokmin whispers. He _never_ whispers -- not even when he's scolded about it in the library, or by his neighbors, or by the teacher's assistant in his voice class ("He loves me, though," Seokmin would insist. "Trust me"). But here he is, lowering his voice for Wonwoo's sake. 

And maybe it's because this fever has turned Wonwoo's brain to mush, but he thinks maybe this is love.

Seokmin gently nudges Wonwoo closer to the wall so he can squeeze in onto the tiny bed and lay down properly. Wonwoo realizes, a moment after Seokmin's settles -- "But I'm contagious?"

"I wanna take a nap with you." Seokmin shrugs and tucks the blanket around Wonwoo more. "I'll even let you be the little spoon this time."

Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something more, but he can't think. Seokmin is comfortable and warm, pressed up against him -- who is he to argue? 

\--

When Wonwoo wakes, his head is spinning a bit, but his body is grounded by a solid arm wrapped around his middle, and a damp towel on his forehead. He can feel the soft puffs of Seokmin breathing, the tip of his nose just grazing the back of Wonwoo's neck.

He slowly shifts to face Seokmin, who sleepily blinks back at him. 

"Good morning, hyung. Rise and shine," Seokmin breathes, a smile spreading across his face slowly. Wonwoo has an urge to press his lips to the mole on Seokmin's cheek, the dimple on his chin. "Or -- well, now it's evening, actually. Good evening."

Wonwoo nods slowly. He should respond, but he can't think of anything else to say, aside from: "I want to kiss you."

"You can." Seokmin's grin grows. He leans in closer, until his nose is brushing against Wonwoo's. "You should."

As tempting as the offer is, Wonwoo sighs, "You're gonna get sick."

"Don't worry, I'm -- uh, what's the saying? I'm as healthy as a horse." He raises his arm and flexes, as if that would prove his point. "Really, don't worry. I, like, never get sick."

And either Wonwoo has a weakness for Seokmin, or his boyfriend always manages to make the most compelling arguments.

(It only takes a few days for Wonwoo to get a call from a miserable Seokmin, voice nasal and petualant as he whines, "this is the _worst_ ," and punctuates it with a sneeze.

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek and holds back an "I told you so" -- for now. Instead, he pulls out the take-out menu he saved from Seokmin's favorite chicken place and thinks about how many spoilers he'll have to read to catch up with Seokmin so they could continue his boyfriend's _Haikyuu!!_ rewatch marathon until he falls asleep. "I'll be there in twenty minutes, babe.")

 

**Author's Note:**

> not relevant to anything, but i want you all to know that in this au, minghao and bambam are roommates. can anyone guess who seokmin’s TA is lol  
> anyway, thanks for reading ;; i hope this was alright??  
> thank you to #V# for talking to me about this and kinda inspiring the fic in the first place with the "pale and dying" thing <3


End file.
